Read Online Kiss the Stars (Devon Slaughter Book 1) by Alice Bell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Alice Bell
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food drifted from the bars, and the dank sweetness of alcohol wafted
from human flesh.
Her mood was so
effervescent. I was reminded of how she had laughed at her own joke in the bar.
I hadn’t heard her laugh since.
“Hey, listen,” I
said, stopping.
She gripped my
hand tighter, her little fingers clamping down, like she sensed me pulling
away.
“What about your
friends back there?” I said.
Her hair was
coming undone, falling out of its sparkly clips. She looked so innocent,
dressed in black with her make-up worn off and her freckles exposed. She let go
of my hand. “My friends ?”
“I think you
should go back there.”
Her eyes
smoldered. “Are you kidding me?”
“I’m serious.” I
thought of the first time I’d seen her, how she mistook me for someone nice. “Henry
likes you,” I said.
She blinked. “Are
you trying to dump me off on him?”
I’d felt his
yearning when I shook his hand, a kind of hope and regret, as if they’d had an
argument and he didn’t know how to make it up to her. The Guns N’Roses song had got to me. She had got to me.
“I don’t
understand you,” she said.
I didn’t know
how to explain. We were like parallel realities, two straight lines that could
go on forever, side by side, but never touching. “You ran off the dance floor,”
I said. “As soon as you saw Henry. And he followed you.” It sounded like an
accusation but it wasn’t.
Above us, the
sky was velvet. A satellite made its way toward the moon. Beneath the murmur of
human voices, I heard the river lapping at the shore. I did want to dump her
off on Henry. For her sake. I had the feeling it was now or never.
12. Ruby
HE WAS always
showing up, every time I turned around. He was practically stalking me and now,
suddenly, he couldn’t wait to cut me loose. He was right. I had run off the
dance floor. He was being so nice, it felt too good to be true. And it was,
wasn’t it?
I backed away.
“Ruby,” he said.
Above him, the streetlamp flickered.
I shouldn’t have
begged him to kiss me, I thought. It must have been disgusting. Deep down, I
knew it had nothing to do with kissing.
It was me. I
didn’t know how to get the things other people took for granted—friendship,
family…love. I had crossed family off my list when my grandmother died. And I
was used to having no friends, but some part of me always believed I would fall
in love, magically.
“Where are you
going?” Devon said.
“Back to the bar.”
At the door, I
glanced over my shoulder. He was still there, under the streetlamp, watching
me, like a parent making sure their child gets on the school bus. So I went
inside, thinking, I hate you, Devon. I wanted to cry, but I was sick of myself
crying, so I didn’t.
I saw Henry and
Georgie buying drinks. Georgie kept leaning into Henry and he didn’t push her
away but he kept glancing up and his eyes swept the crowd. Was he looking for
me?
I stayed in the
shadows.
I used to come
here and sit at the end of the bar, in the warm glow of the beer sign. No one
stared, like I was a stranger. Sometimes interesting things happened. I caught
snippets of conversation, insight into how other people lived.
If only Georgie
would quit tossing her hair and touching Henry. Didn’t she have to go fix her
lipstick?
The band was
coming back on stage and plugging in their instruments. The singer wore a
T-shirt that said: What Goes On Tour, Stays On Tour. I went up to the edge of
the stage, before I lost my nerve. Devon had put such a huge ache inside me; I
didn’t care if I made a fool of myself.
I waved to the
singer and he came over and leaned toward me, his longish hair falling in his
eyes. “I just wanted to tell you how much I love you,” I said. “I have your
record.”
“Yeah? Bring it
next time. I’ll sign it.”
I started to
turn away but he said, “Hey, wait. What’s your name?”
I’d only wanted
to tell him I loved him. My mouth went dry. “Ruby…”
As soon as they
began
from human flesh.
Her mood was so
effervescent. I was reminded of how she had laughed at her own joke in the bar.
I hadn’t heard her laugh since.
“Hey, listen,” I
said, stopping.
She gripped my
hand tighter, her little fingers clamping down, like she sensed me pulling
away.
“What about your
friends back there?” I said.
Her hair was
coming undone, falling out of its sparkly clips. She looked so innocent,
dressed in black with her make-up worn off and her freckles exposed. She let go
of my hand. “My friends ?”
“I think you
should go back there.”
Her eyes
smoldered. “Are you kidding me?”
“I’m serious.” I
thought of the first time I’d seen her, how she mistook me for someone nice. “Henry
likes you,” I said.
She blinked. “Are
you trying to dump me off on him?”
I’d felt his
yearning when I shook his hand, a kind of hope and regret, as if they’d had an
argument and he didn’t know how to make it up to her. The Guns N’Roses song had got to me. She had got to me.
“I don’t
understand you,” she said.
I didn’t know
how to explain. We were like parallel realities, two straight lines that could
go on forever, side by side, but never touching. “You ran off the dance floor,”
I said. “As soon as you saw Henry. And he followed you.” It sounded like an
accusation but it wasn’t.
Above us, the
sky was velvet. A satellite made its way toward the moon. Beneath the murmur of
human voices, I heard the river lapping at the shore. I did want to dump her
off on Henry. For her sake. I had the feeling it was now or never.
12. Ruby
HE WAS always
showing up, every time I turned around. He was practically stalking me and now,
suddenly, he couldn’t wait to cut me loose. He was right. I had run off the
dance floor. He was being so nice, it felt too good to be true. And it was,
wasn’t it?
I backed away.
“Ruby,” he said.
Above him, the streetlamp flickered.
I shouldn’t have
begged him to kiss me, I thought. It must have been disgusting. Deep down, I
knew it had nothing to do with kissing.
It was me. I
didn’t know how to get the things other people took for granted—friendship,
family…love. I had crossed family off my list when my grandmother died. And I
was used to having no friends, but some part of me always believed I would fall
in love, magically.
“Where are you
going?” Devon said.
“Back to the bar.”
At the door, I
glanced over my shoulder. He was still there, under the streetlamp, watching
me, like a parent making sure their child gets on the school bus. So I went
inside, thinking, I hate you, Devon. I wanted to cry, but I was sick of myself
crying, so I didn’t.
I saw Henry and
Georgie buying drinks. Georgie kept leaning into Henry and he didn’t push her
away but he kept glancing up and his eyes swept the crowd. Was he looking for
me?
I stayed in the
shadows.
I used to come
here and sit at the end of the bar, in the warm glow of the beer sign. No one
stared, like I was a stranger. Sometimes interesting things happened. I caught
snippets of conversation, insight into how other people lived.
If only Georgie
would quit tossing her hair and touching Henry. Didn’t she have to go fix her
lipstick?
The band was
coming back on stage and plugging in their instruments. The singer wore a
T-shirt that said: What Goes On Tour, Stays On Tour. I went up to the edge of
the stage, before I lost my nerve. Devon had put such a huge ache inside me; I
didn’t care if I made a fool of myself.
I waved to the
singer and he came over and leaned toward me, his longish hair falling in his
eyes. “I just wanted to tell you how much I love you,” I said. “I have your
record.”
“Yeah? Bring it
next time. I’ll sign it.”
I started to
turn away but he said, “Hey, wait. What’s your name?”
I’d only wanted
to tell him I loved him. My mouth went dry. “Ruby…”
As soon as they
began
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